


Boar Hunter

by unrestedjade



Category: Legend of Zelda
Genre: M/M, daphgan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrestedjade/pseuds/unrestedjade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot that turned into a slow-burn, ongoing daphgan thing.  Seeking the triforce, Ganondorf has schemed his way into the Hyrulean court.  Under scrutiny from his second-in-command and the king's brat of a daughter, he decides to shift his approach.  Perhaps gaining the king's favor will help him realize his ambitions...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shitberries

**Author's Note:**

> Hyrule Warriors just inspired my first Zelda fic since 2002, and it’s not even set during the game. Whoops! OoT will never loosen its grip on me, it seems. Pick whichever branch of the timeline you like. I picked the one that leads into Twilight Princess because I love to be miserable.
> 
> This was platonic Ganondorf/Nabooru fluff until it got kind of maudlin and sad. ~~There’s some joking mention of Daphnes/Gan, but it’s genfic.~~ Well, guess what. :T
> 
> This one shot ended up leading into a many-shot...

The night breezes here were mild and cool.  Music from the great hall drifted up to the balcony where Ganondorf stood in quiet contemplation.  Reading by lantern light had made his eyes tired and his head ache, but the air outside was soothing.  His cloak lay draped over a chair in his chambers, unneeded.  It was a far cry from the cruel nights of his homeland, with their deathly chill.

He didn’t turn around when he heard the door of his chamber open and close.  He knew Nabooru by the sound of her footsteps, quiet though they were.  

“Cousin,” he said, by way of greeting.  She came to stand beside him on the balcony, a bowl of various fruits in one hand and a generous cup of wine in the other.  "Have you not stopped eating or drinking since we arrived?“

Nabooru took a hearty swig of wine.  "They keep setting out food and drink, what am I to do but keep eating and drinking?”  She smiled at him over the rim of her cup.

“Their food is atrocious and their wine is far too weak.”

“Then you must simply drink more of it, cousin.”

“Hmm.”

She set the bowl of fruit down on the balcony railing.  "I liberated this from the banquet table.  Eat something.  No, not those!“ she said, when Ganondorf picked up a small handful of berries.  "Don’t eat those, unless you want to run for the privies soon after.”  She picked the rest of the berries out of the bowl and dropped them over the balcony.  "I don’t know what the Hylians call them, but I will name them shitberries.“

Ganondorf looked at the berries in his hand, and dropped them over the side to join the others.

Nabooru handed him an apple.  "Try one of these.  They’re good.”

It was good, tart and clean.  Far preferable to the overly rich dishes their hosts kept shoving at him.

Nabooru plucked a grape from the bowl.  "You left the feast very early, my king.“  She spat the grape seed out and watched it fall to the courtyard below.

"I am tired.”  Tired of the noise, tired of the stares, tired of the subtle insults couched inside inane chatter as though he were too dim-witted to catch them.  Hylian was not his first tongue, but he had better command of the clumsy language than the royal court credited him for.

“Yes, well, you will have to make your apologies to their king in the morning,” Nabooru said, resting her cup on the railing.  "It’s rude to leave a party sober.  Especially one thrown in your honor.“

The Hylians were in no position to judge rudeness, after today.  His second-in-command had borne the brunt of their disrespect since the Gerudos’ arrival the previous evening, and yet she maintained her graceful calm.  It was all he could do to hold his tongue in the face of their insolence, their stares and ignorant whispers.  By the flames of Din, he hated every being in this castle, from the royal family right down to the cowering servants.  Never before had he been treated this way, as a curiosity, an object of ridicule and speculation.  

Far off in their desert, his people fought for their very survival, and the only word of them in this blessed kingdom were obscene rumors, low gossip, and the vilest of lies.

He would be well pleased when these indolent fools were gone, and this castle brought down, stone by stone.  That sweet day could not come quickly enough.

Perhaps Nabooru, too, had reached the limit of her endurance.  He watched her take another drink, the warrior more regal even in her drunken state than any of the simpering nobles at the feast could hope to approach.  "You have left,” he said.

“Ah, but I am not sober!”

“I can see that.”  Ganondorf eyed her cup, which was still more than half full.  "And how far into your cups are you?“

Nabooru grinned, striking a gallant pose.  "Cousin, you will be proud to note that I have pissed thrice this night, and will do so again before I sleep.”  She tapped her lips with one long finger.  "Perhaps I will try the pot under my bed.  I’m told that is its use.“

She swayed, and Ganondorf reached out a hand to steady her, the barest twitch of a smile crossing his face.  "Mind that your aim is true, then, cousin.”

“The pout cracks, at last!”  Nabooru patted his hand on her arm, and leaned against the railing to keep from wobbling further.  "And my aim is always true.“  She looked down into the courtyard, which was quiet save for a Hylian couple who had also left the feast in favor of other pursuits.  She grinned.  "It’s not much of a party, to be sure,” she said.  "Quiet music and slow dancing.  I don’t blame you for leaving.  Even their king seems to find it dull.“

"Daphnes, yes.  I shall have to make my excuses to him tomorrow.”  Ganondorf frowned at the reminder.  "As though having to bow and scrape to him isn’t humiliation enough.“

"What price is humiliation for the lives of our people?”

Ganondorf sighed, brows furrowed.  "A small one.“  He tossed his apple core over the balcony, watched it land atop a neatly trimmed hedge.  "You have dealt with Hylians before.  Perhaps you can teach me to grovel more effectively.”

Nabooru laughed.  "Of course; these Hylian men are easily steered.“  She studied her long, clean fingernails, and combed them through her ponytail.  "When you go to their king in the morning, make sure you have painted your face nicely, and anoint your hair so that it smells sweet.  Take care not to overdress at breakfast,” she said, reaching out to tug Ganondorf’s shirt down off one shoulder.  "And when you speak, do so softly, and you must flutter your eyelashes like so.“  She rested her chin on her hands, batting her eyelashes with a coy smile.

Ganondorf failed to stifle his laugh.  "Perhaps that tactic works for you, oh exalted one.”  He moved her cup before she could knock it over.  "You look a perfect fool.“  He said the words with fondness.  She possessed a ready wit, and had often clowned to break him from dark moods in their youth.

"To play the fool perfectly is a talent,” Nabooru said.  His second-in-command hopped up to sit on the railing, one leg crossed primly over the other.  She adjusted her bandeau to better secure her breasts.  "And this clever tactic works for all Gerudo.  We are as coveted as we are feared and reviled,“ she said, with an added bat of her eyelashes for good measure, and a bark of laughter.

"Somehow I doubt my trying it would have the desired effect.”  He hadn’t been in this foreign place for long, but Ganondorf had noted that the Hylians seemed strangely particular when it came to such matters.  He could not afford to give offense, not when the goal was so close at hand.

“I would wager that you are wrong, cousin.  By my lights, we are both equal in beauty.”  Nabooru toyed with the jeweled choker around her neck.  Ganondorf noted that she hadn’t arrived at Hyrule Castle with it, and idly wondered which fine lady was still dancing in the great hall, ignorant of her missing jewelry.  "And I need both hands to count the number of these nobles who have looked straight past me to admire you instead.“ 

"And is His Majesty, King Daphnes among that number?”  His tone was only half-joking.  Any advantage, any foothold he could secure here would buy him time while he searched for the relic these Hylians thought they could keep for their own.  And if he won supplies for his tribe in the meantime, so much the better.

Nabooru winked, and tapped her nose.  "I cannot tell you that, or you might not take up my wager.  It is all in jest, in any case.“  She stood, the gaiety leaving her face for a moment.  "I would not ask my king to abandon all dignity,” she said.

Ganondorf shrugged.  He found no shame in using all the tools at his peoples’ disposal, only worried that his efforts would likely backfire.  "If I thought it would work,“ he said, trailing off when he spied movement in the window directly across the courtyard.  He frowned.  "I grow tired of that wretched girl.”

“You did not see the little princess there?  You grow careless, cousin.”  Nabooru gave a little wave at the figure in the window, and blew a kiss.  The girl ducked out of sight.  "Pay her no mind.  We are novel to her, and she is cloistered away in here.  Don’t you remember how you were as a child?  You acted as though you would smother to death in the fortress.  You leapt on any chance at excitement like a hound on a scrap of meat.“

"Ha!  I seem to remember you leaping right alongside me.”  The stakes were higher now that they were grown, and failure meant worse than a scolding and mucking out the stables, but they leapt all the same.  Neither of them had ever known fear, only the promise of success for those bold enough to reach for it.

Nabooru raised an eyebrow, studying his face as though seeking something there.  "For good or ill, yes, I did.“  She picked up her cup, and the bowl.  "It grows late,” she said.  "And I am still tired from our journey, as I’m sure you are.“  She seemed to have grown strangely somber.

Ganondorf followed her inside.  "What troubles you, cousin?”  He watched as she stopped to examine the table, where he had spread out his scrolls and maps.  

She shoved a scroll aside and set down the bowl and cup.  "I have greatly enjoyed traveling with you,“ she said.  Her eyes did not leave the collection of parchments on the table.  "Our duties have kept us apart these last few years.”

“That is so,” Ganondorf said.  He made his way to the table and began rolling up scrolls, tying their ribbons neatly.  "I have been grateful for your company and counsel.“

There was a wetness in Nabooru’s eyes, though it may have been a mere trick of the firelight.  "I miss the days when there were no secrets between us, cousin.”

Ganondorf paused, scroll in hand.  "There are none.“

"Then tell me, truly,” Nabooru said, turning to face him with eyes that pierced him.  "Why have we come to this place?“

He looked away, setting the scroll with the others in a small pile.  "We have come to beg King Daphnes’ aid.”  When he returned his gaze to hers, his face was a calm mask.

Nabooru shook her head.  "I have known you from your first breath, Ganondorf,“ she said, "and yet, you would lie to me.”  Crossing her arms, she dropped her gaze to stare into the fireplace, where the flames now burned low.  "A darkness has come upon you of late, my king, and I despair to see it.  This obsession…“  Her voice quavered.  She traced her fingers over a map, now half-covered in Ganondorf’s many notations.  "I wish you would cast it aside.  In my dreams I see ruin, for you and for all of us, should you continue down this path.”

“Do not let your fears run away with you, Nabooru,”  He embraced her, stroking her hair, as he had when her favorite mare had broken its leg when they were children, on the day her mother had passed away, on the morning her first child was stillborn.  A pang of guilt stirred in him for causing her such grief, but it was far too late to turn back now that the prize was near.  She hugged his waist with bruising strength.  "Be at ease,“ he said.  "It is merely a theft.”  He touched her stolen choker with a smirk.  "A grand burglary, that will ensure our tribe will never know suffering or want again.“  

She stepped back, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.  "So you say.”  She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and sighed.  Her shoulders slumped in some inner defeat.  "Take care that the Hylians do not catch you at this, my king,“ she said, nodding toward the maps and scrolls.  "It will not be your life alone that is forfeit.  The fate of our people rests with you.”

“Believe me,” Ganondorf said, “I know it well.”

She excused herself, and left silently as a ghost.  He watched her go, and he was alone with his maps and lore once more.  His hand strayed to his ink-stone and brush, but sleep tugged at his weary mind, and he set about putting his things away instead.  Nabooru was right, such work must be kept out of sight of enemy eyes.

Briefly, he worried whether he would have to hide his plans from Nabooru, as well.  But no.  She would see, once the triforce was his, that he’d been right to take this risk.  She would understand.  Once their tribe had supremacy over Hyrule, all would be well.

He undressed, mind racing with all he still needed to learn and do.  He would not suffer Hylian servants in his chambers, nor would he impose upon the Gerudo guards outside his door, and so he folded his clothing and banked the fire himself.

His bed was uncomfortably soft and smelled of cucco feathers, but it was his thoughts that kept him from sleep for a time.  He would have to redouble his efforts tomorrow, play the part of the penitent beggar king perfectly.  Many sets of eyes watched him, as Nabooru had so sagely reminded him.  

Carelessness now would cost him everything.

He just needed a little more time. 


	2. Morning Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Nabooru/Gan vignette, because this idea is kind of running away with me and everything is horrible. Maybe next time they’ll even make it to a different room or, I don’t know, do something interesting.
> 
> Such royal drama. Much intrigue. Wow.

Ganondorf studied himself in the mirror, turning to see himself from all angles.  He frowned. 

He was unsure of what to wear.  This was not a dilemma he had ever faced before.

The ceremonial armor he had worn on his arrival to Hyrule Castle was out of the question.  Protection had been a necessity while on the road, but he was trying to dispel the notion that Gerudo were warlike barbarians.  And full hardened leather and plate in midsummer was uncomfortable, besides.

His robes, while suitable for the evening, were far too ostentatious to wear during the day.  He didn’t wish to look as though he were putting on airs out of some sense of inferiority.

Leaving the comparatively casual clothes he now wore.  It was perfectly normal dress for a Gerudo, but an unfamiliar doubt followed at his heels as he dressed himself.  This place had him off balance, and it irritated him.

Nabooru let herself in, a smirk twisting her lips when she caught sight of him.  “Good morning, cousin.”

“Nabooru.  How fares your head?"  She looked remarkably well-rested for the morning after a celebration.

"I feel as though I had not drunk one drop,” Nabooru said.  She picked up a comb from the bedside table and wordlessly began combing Ganondorf’s hair.

Ganondorf smiled as he tied a red and blue sash at his waist.  “As I said, their wine is weak.”

“So,” Nabooru said, pausing to tease out a stubborn tangle.  “You are taking my advice to heart, after all."  She gave him a meaningful look in the mirror.  His garments were white, rather than the rose that Nabooru preferred for herself, and his half-shirt was slightly more modest, but otherwise they cut similar figures. 

It was a non-issue in their homeland, but somehow, here, everything they did seemed to cause a stir, no matter how innocuous.  Ganondorf couldn’t get the measure of these people.

The very fact that he was entertaining worry about what a pack of Hylians thought of him was irksome.  With great annoyance, he forced all such doubts from his mind.  He was a king.

"Not so,” Ganondorf said, face coloring.  “I simply think it wise to give a less martial impression than I have been." 

"Be at ease, cousin, I am merely teasing you."  At her insistent prodding, Ganondorf took a seat at the vanity before the mirror so that she could more easily reach.  With nimble fingers, she wound braids into his hair. 

While she worked, he saw to his face, using a small brush to cover his eyelids and lips with red ochre.  Dipping a small, wooden stick into a pot of kohl, he then carefully lined his eyes.

"You are taking great pains, it seems,” Nabooru said.  “I dare say no one here would notice if you went barefaced."  Her braiding finished, she scooped some hair lotion from its jar.  She smoothed it over the braids to seal them, the room filling with the smell of myrrh and rosemary.

"I have my standards."  Ganondorf glanced at her in the mirror.  "Is that why your face is bare, exalted one?”

His second-in-command grinned.  “I may have tarried too long while dressing this morning.  Unlike you, I have no trouble allowing pretty Hylian handmaidens to dress me.”

“Well, those pretty maids have left the work unfinished." 

Ganondorf, for his part, did not intend to be seen at anything less than his royal best.  It was a matter of pride, if not some measure of childish spite for King Daphnes’ court.  He fastened a belt of silver medallions around his waist to lay over the sash.  A set of decorative bracers adorned his wrists, and a heavy collar inlaid with garnet and turquoise cabochons encircled his neck and draped across his collarbones.  Last and most important was the circlet that denoted his high station.  He pinned it in place, assuring that the large citrine jewel was perfectly centered on his forehead.

His own morning preparations complete, Ganondorf stood and motioned to the stool.  "Sit.”

“Very well, my king,” Nabooru said, seating herself and starting her own make-up.  “If my appearance bothers you so.”

Ganondorf gave only a gentle snort in reply, and set about arranging her hair.  For several minutes, neither said a word.  The companionable silence was welcome, as rare as such occasions had become.  Anointing Nabooru’s hair and setting it in twists, piece by piece, gave him time to calm his mind for the long day ahead.

When he finally gathered her hair up into its heavy clasp, he looked up to find her watching him intently in the mirror.  A thoughtful frown darkened her face.

“You will get wrinkles, cousin.”

“They shall make me look distinguished,” Nabooru retorted.  “I wished,” she said, “to make an apology for my behavior last night.  I spoke out of turn.”

“Don’t think on it,” Ganondorf said, taking a step back as she stood.  “It’s forgotten.”

“I have many reservations, still,” she cautioned him, busying her hands with checking that his clothing and jewelry was sitting as it should. 

“Yes, and your warnings do not fall on deaf ears."  He took her hands to still them.  "I have not changed my mind, but I will use the utmost caution.  I promise you this.”

Nabooru nodded.  After a moment, she squeezed his hands, the sorrowful expression on her face receding.  “I am famished, cousin,” she said.  “Let us see what pig-slop these Hylians have for breakfast!”

Ganondorf smiled.  The matter was dropped.  Good.  “Yes, let’s.”


	3. Savages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it won’t stop happening. Also, I can’t seem to settle on a consistent tone. Ganondorf wants to be broody and Nabooru won’t stop being an actual baby. I sort of tried to show a difference between spoken Hylian and Gerudo language without having to announce it in the text, but I don’t know if I'm succeeding.
> 
> No time for angsting. Food for belly.

“Savages!”

“Nabooru, contain yourself.”

“Barbarians!  Animals!”

The morning was cool, dew yet lay upon the grass in the royal gardens.  The lush greenery was very beautiful, and would have made for a charming walk if Nabooru weren’t charging through the flowers like a wolfos with a rotten tooth.

“Daughters of motherless goats!  How can they expect us to go half the day with nothing?  They mean to starve me.”

Ganondorf sighed.  Truthfully, he’d been relieved to hear it would be several hours more before he was expected to socialize.  “I strongly suspect you will survive until midday, cousin.”

Nabooru picked a lily blossom as though beheading a particularly repulsive foe.  “It defies all reason to wait so long!” she snapped, glaring at the flower in her hand.  “It will be the hottest part of the day, no less!”

Glancing over his shoulder, Ganondorf could see the pair of guardswomen following ten paces behind struggle to keep straight faces.  They had been brought a crust of bread and a mug of ale each by their Hylian counterparts at the dawn’s changing of the guard, and so they watched their exalted general’s childish tantrum with full bellies. 

“After all we have witnessed here,” Ganondorf said, pausing to smell a flowering shrub he could not identify, “this is what sends you into a rage?"  Dining a bit later than they were accustomed to was a trifling matter compared with the blatant disrespect they, and especially Nabooru, had endured since their arrival.

"I don’t care about all that!"  Nabooru waved her hand, wrinkling her nose in disgust.  She stuck the lily in her hair, but looked very grudging about it.  "I’ve known for years how rude and stupid these people are.  They cannot help it.  But this,” she said, in apocalyptic tones, “this is simply inhospitable.  A visitor in our lands would never go hungry, and we have hardly any food to spare!”

The impotent anger that had been his constant companion these last few summers rekindled in the pit of Ganondorf’s stomach.  He opened his mouth to reassure his second, but movement at the edge of his vision killed the words in his throat.

That damned girl.  Again.  “Hey!” he barked, in Hylian.  “I see you there.  Come out, spy.”

The four Gerudo watched as the young princess crawled out from beneath a hedge.  Her dress was covered in dirt and grass stains.  She was white as a sheet and quaking in fear.

“Well?"  Ganondorf said, unmoved by the child’s sniffling.  "What is the meaning of this?”

The girl balled up her fists, still trembling like a leaf.  Without warning, she darted forward, kicked Ganondorf’s shin with all her meagre strength, and lit off for the castle.

While Ganondorf sputtered in shock, Nabooru burst into raucous laughter.  She fell to the ground, kicking her legs up and rolling on the grass.

Ganondorf glared down at her.  “I fail to see what is so amusing.”

“Of course you do,” Nabooru wheezed, fighting to get the words out.  She had lost her breath entirely, laughing silently save for the occasional gasp for air that put Ganondorf in mind of a dying donkey.

Even the guards’ eyes crinkled in concealed mirth.  At least they were bothering to conceal it…

“Zelda!"  A stern voice boomed through the garden.  A Sheikah woman seemed to manifest from the shrubbery, cutting off the young princess’ escape.  "What on earth did I just witness?"  Grabbing the girl’s ear (and a Hylian ear made for a good handhold), the woman dragged her back across the lawn.

This, of course, set Nabooru off laughing all over again. 

"Get up,” Ganondorf hissed at her.  “You are making a scene.”

With considerable effort, Nabooru calmed herself somewhat, springing to her feet as the pair approached.

“My humblest apologies."  The woman made a half-bow as well as she was able with a grip on her charge’s ear.  "I don’t know how she slipped away from me, but the fault is entirely mine.”

Nabooru dabbed at her eyes.  Her kohl was a bit smudged.  “The child must be quite sly,” she said, smirking, “to escape a shadow warrior so easily.”

The woman’s glare lasted no longer than an eyeblink, and was then carefully smoothed away.  The Gerudo had no quarrels with the Sheikah per se, but there was little love lost between the two tribes.  Rumor had it that the Sheikah had gotten under the thumb of the Hylian royal family somehow, or at least had become so destitute that they now survived on the mercy of their rulers alone.  To the Gerudo, the Shadow Peoples’ dependency was laughable.  Shameful, even.  Better a thief than a servant.

Not that the Gerudo were currently in any position to cast judgement. 

Ganondorf watched as the little princess tried in vain to free her ear.  The way the Sheikah was pinching it had to be quite painful.  He found he held little sympathy for her.  “Why were you spying on us, kid?" 

"It’s ‘Your Highness,’ to you!  Ow!  Ow ow ow!”

“Titles,” the Sheikah said, giving the captured ear a quarter turn, “are for those who have not spent the last quarter hour crawling about in the dirt!"  She let go of the girl’s ear.  "Now, answer the king’s question.”

The girl stared sullenly down at the ground, rubbing her sore ear.  “I heard raised voices,” she said.  “I thought someone was fighting.”

“What you heard,” Ganondorf said, “was the exalted Nabooru complaining of her hunger."  He crossed his arms.  "Loudly, and at great length.”

The girl looked from one Gerudo to the other with suspicion.  Nabooru shrugged, and grinned a shameless grin.

The Sheikah cast a sharp glance at the princess.  “There, you see?  Now, you’d better apologize right this instant.”

In the manner of every child in history given such a command, the girl crossed her arms and scuffed at the turf with her feet.  “Sorry,” she muttered, barely audible.

“Sorry for what?"  There was no doubt that this woman was a nursemaid.

The princess heaved a sigh too large for her body.  "I’m sorry I kicked you.”

The Sheikah cleared her throat.  Merciless, this one.

“I’m sorry I kicked you, Your Majesty.”

“All is forgiven, Your Highness,” Ganondorf said.  There was no need, after all, to cause needless trouble.  The girl was an annoyance, but it was her father that concerned him.  “There was no harm done.”

“Thank goodness."  The Sheikah visibly relaxed.  "Thank you for your graciousness, Your Majesty.  It won’t happen again."  With another half-bow, she excused herself, prodding her young charge into motion.

"Hey, kid!  Wait a minute!”

The girl and her guardian stopped short, looking at Nabooru with twin questioning stares.

“Which way to the kitchens?”

Ganondorf was starting to seriously question if it would be improper to lock himself in his chambers for the remainder of the day.


	4. Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daphnes, my man, why you gotta be so coy? Just let me write you.

The dreaded hour of midday arrived, and Daphnes’ household and guests gathered in the great hall.  Ganondorf steeled himself and entered the hall with Nabooru at his side.  They took their places at the high table, unwittingly leaving a very confused page-boy with no one to seat.  Nabooru beckoned the boy to her side.

“Here’s a rupee, kid,” she said, pressing the green stone into the boy’s palm.  “See that my cup stays full."  She winked.

The boy nodded, eyes wide with bewilderment and not a little terror while he filled her cup with wine.  He pocketed the rupee, though.

Dinner was a much plainer affair than the previous night’s feast, much to Ganondorf’s relief.  Cucco seasoned, regrettably, with anise, various fruits, and cheese.  The cheese was shot through with mold and tasted about as well as it smelled.  The fruit and the cucco were quite edible, although having not eaten anything today, and only an apple the night before, Ganondorf would have been willing to eat even the cheese, if it came to that.

Nabooru was not deterred by moldy cheese.  Before the servants had the chance, she served herself a full plate.  She ate with gusto, despite having breakfasted on approximately half the castle larder just a few hours earlier. 

Ganondorf was seated at King Daphnes’ left hand, and could feel stares on him.  He supposed he and the Hylian king made for something of a study in contrasts.  King Daphnes was fair of hair and complexion, like many of his subjects, and wore his hair cropped short.  Where Ganondorf was clean-shaven, the Hylian sported a full beard.  His face was bare and his only jewelry was a plain diadem and two rings on his left hand.  What the man lacked in ornamentation, however, he more than made up in layers of clothing.  Ganondorf couldn’t for the life of him figure out why these Hylians insisted on dressing to the point that they risked heat stroke.

Daphnes was also a head shorter than Ganondorf.  It was an effort not to loom over the man by accident.

"Your…general has a hearty appetite."  King Daphnes leaned near Ganondorf’s ear, nodding toward Nabooru.  She had been mistaken for the Gerudo queen yesterday; that particular misunderstanding was settled, after a long and mutually-confusing series of questions.  Ganondorf still wasn’t quite sure what impression the Hylians had been under.  Some of the words they’d used had no Gerudo translation.

Ganondorf watched his second happily gnawing on a cucco bone.  He looked to the king, who thankfully seemed to be regarding the scene with good humor.  "Yes, Your Majesty, she has.  I beg pardon,” he said, “we are not accustomed to…"  He searched for words that would not be too self-deprecating, and could find none.  His people starved.  There were no words.  He gestured to the table, with its excess of dishes.

"Oh, not at all!  Not at all!"  The king clapped Ganondorf on the shoulder.  "I’m happy to see my guests happy and well-fed.  Besides,” the Hylian said, eyes twinkling merrily, “what better than a plump woman, eh?”

“Ah,” said Ganondorf.  

“I completely agree,” said Nabooru, helping herself to a second portion of cucco.

King Daphnes laughed.  “You know,” he said, taking a sip of wine, “I must admit, I was a bit apprehensive when I received your missive.  Relations between the kingdom and your tribe being what they are.”

“A most regrettable circumstance,” Ganondorf said.  Being charming was proving a more difficult task than he’d presumed.

“I must say, though, I’m beginning to think my worries were unfounded.  Your lady was quite entertaining last night.”

“I am sure."  Ganondorf cast a questioning glance at his second, who ignored him.

"Yes, she was the life of the party, in fact."  The king set down his cup to let a page refill it.  "Such tales!  Bandits and sandstorms, and dreadful monsters– my guests were entirely enthralled.  The desert sounds quite exciting.”

Ganondorf cast about for something droll or endearing to say about that, and once again came up short. 

“And you,” Daphnes said, filling the silence as though he hadn’t noticed it, “You retired very early, Lord Ganondorf.”

There.  Now he could make his excuses and have that done with.  “My apologies, my king,” Ganondorf said, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.  “It was not my wish to leave, but I felt very unwell.  Exhaustion from my journey, I am sure."  He picked at a small bite of cucco.

The king nodded.  "Yes, the road is tiring.  I trust you are rested now,” he said.  “I have a hunt planned for the morning, for boar.  Do you hunt?”

“On occasion, Your Majesty.”

“Well, you must join us!  The hunting in my forest is especially good this time of year." 

Ganondorf felt a sharp jab in his ribs, courtesy of Nabooru’s elbow.  "I would be delighted to accompany you, of course.”

The Hylian beamed.  “Excellent! We leave at first light– I’ll send a servant for you.  Oh,” he said.  “You may want to wear something a bit more…  Well, more."  Daphnes gestured to Ganondorf’s attire.  "The underbrush is quite dense, you see, even on horseback.”

Ganondorf frowned.  “I will take your advice into consideration, my king.  Thank you.”

“Good man.  You’ll enjoy it,” the king said.  “Fresh air and exercise, not that you’re in need of exercise, from the look of you!"  He prodded Ganondorf’s arm.

"Your Majesty is too kind,” Ganondorf said.

“We Gerudo aim for quality above quantity, my king,” Nabooru said, giving Ganondorf a playful nudge.

King Daphnes nearly choked on his wine.  “Indeed!"  He clapped Ganondorf on the back.  Though not of Ganondorf’s height, he was not a small man, and the blow jarred the Gerudo a bit.  "My lady, I nearly mistook your king for a giant when you arrived here.  That, or an unusually trim Goron.”

Nabooru laughed with affected daintiness.  While the pair congratulated each other on their wit, Ganondorf glanced past the king to his daughter.  The girl picked at her food, shoving morsels of fruit around her plate with one of the odd utensils the Hylians used to eat with. 

When she noticed Ganondorf looking at her, she stuck out her tongue at him. 

She returned to a state of prim politeness the instant Nabooru and Daphnes had finished talking.  “Father,” she said, “may I be excused, please?”

“Now, Zelda,” the king said, “You mustn’t be rude to our guests."  He patted her head.

Ganondorf frowned.  A child her age was too old for such treatment.  "Ah, Your Majesty, it’s of no concern.  The weather is too fine to keep the princess indoors." 

King Daphnes raised an eyebrow.  "Very well, I suppose."  He turned to his daughter.  "Thank Lord Ganondorf, my dear, and then you may go and start your lessons.”

The girl stood and made a curtsy.  “Thank you, Lord Ganondorf, Lady Nabooru.”

Ganondorf nodded.  Nabooru made a little wave as the girl took her leave.

“My apologies,” the king said.  “You know how it is with children, these days.  Are you a father, Lord Ganondorf?  Ah, how stupid of me!” Daphnes said, before Ganondorf had a chance to answer.  “Of course you are!" 

Ganondorf laughed along with Nabooru and the king, though it was forced.  He kept hearing that word.  He would have to ask Nabooru what it meant.


	5. Pigsticking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long! Please enjoy the one and only thing I have accomplished today, other than cooking a dinner that was not very good. This Daphnes/Gan brain fever is not going away, so I’m just going to get it out of my system. Sorry, folks. I didn’t light it, but I tried to fight it. 
> 
> There is _subtle symbolism_ hidden somewhere in this installment. Can you find it?

Ganondorf washed and dressed himself by lamplight.  Dawn was still more than an hour away, but his sleep had been fitful, and at last he had given up on rest altogether. Preparing for King Daphnes’ hunt, at least, gave him something to occupy his hands and mind.

He had had no chance to broach the subject of aid yesterday, as other petitioners had commanded the king’s attention at court from just after midday to supper, after which Daphnes had retired for the evening.  Today would not fare much better.  More troublesome still was the fact that he would also be kept from his research, traipsing through the forest after a damned boar.  The purpose of it eluded him.  The castle was obviously well-stocked with food, and boars were dangerous prey, as clever and aggressive as they were strong. 

If it would make King Daphnes more well-disposed toward him, Ganondorf begrudgingly conceded that the day may not be completely wasted.  So long as the foolish Hylian didn’t get himself gored to death.

He checked the wrappings around his calves and forearms, seeing that they would hold fast without being too tight.  They would serve to keep his sleeves and trouser legs from being snagged on branches and the like.  For the same purpose he wore his smallest earrings, and a plain collar that lay flat against his throat.  In expectation of spending the length of the day outside, he rimmed his eyes generously with kohl.

He had never ridden through forested land before; he resolved that if nothing else, he would make an exercise of it.  It would do no harm to also see the lay of the land north of the castle.  Eventually, he would have to make his way up Death Mountain to seek out the holy ruby hidden there, and passing unseen through the woods could well prove wiser than travelling to Kakariko where his movements would be noted.

The Hylian servant looked taken aback to find Ganondorf ready to leave.  The boy gave him a portion of salt fish, a crust of bread, and a mug of ale.  Once his small breakfast was done, the servant then led him to the royal stables, where he was presented with the wrong horse.  Annoyed but unsurprised at the grooms’ stupidity, Ganondorf set about saddling his stallion himself, leaving aside the bridle and reins for worry that they would become entangled in the woodland brush.

He was the last to arrive at the northern gates.  The rest of the hunting party waited, mounts dancing and pawing at the dirt in impatience while the dogs milled about their legs, yipping and baying.  The riders all stared at him with varying levels of incredulity.

“Ah, Lord Ganondorf!"  King Daphnes looked as puzzled as any of them. 

"Forgive me for my tardiness, my king,” Ganondorf said, bringing his stallion to a halt with a shift in his weight.  “I’m afraid there was some confusion in the stables, and the wrong horse was made ready for me.”

The assembled nobles laughed.  Daphnes laughed loudest of all of them.  “Ah, my good man, that courser was to be your mount!  Surely you don’t mean to ride a charger of that size through the woods?  It’s a fine animal,” the king said, “too fine to risk on a hunt, and too large and slow to keep pace, besides.”

Ganondorf’s ears and cheeks burned.  So that’s what those Hylians in the stables had been whispering about.  And now he’d blundered before King Daphnes and several of his most influential courtiers. 

No matter!  He would not be made to look a fool by this rabble.  “With all respect, my king,” he said, “I must insist.  My horse is in need of exercise, and will become unmanageable if he is kept in his stall any longer.  He will keep pace." 

"That is your decision,” Daphnes said, looking the massive horse over with uncertainty.  “If you’re sure.”

“Quite sure, Your Majesty.”

The party set out for the royal forest.  Ganondorf’s stallion, despite its size, easily kept ahead of the pack, dogs and mounts both.  Not that Ganondorf had urged it, much.  With all but the king riding behind him, snatches of conversation drifted up into his ears, half-heard over the hoof-beats of the horses.

“Would you look at the size of that beast!”

“Horse or man?”

“Just as well, he might have broken the back of a smaller-”

“What on earth is that get-up he’s wearing?”

“At least he’s covered up a bit.  He and that wench of his looked like a pair of  _dancers_  yesterday, didn’t you see?  Nearly put me off my food.”

“You could stand to be put off your food now and then.”

“The woman’s alright– she can wear as little as she likes, if you ask me.”

“Is that an undershirt?  His shoulders are bare, for Nayru’s sake.”

“You’d think they would want their only man to act-”

Ganondorf rolled his eyes and brought his stallion to a trot.  He’d had more than his fill of inane muttering.  Thankfully, the chatter died off as they reached the edge of the forest. 

The stallion shied at the forbidding wall of trees.  It had spent its life on the open dunes of the desert and in the wide basin of Gerudo Valley; Ganondorf may as well have asked it to walk into an ocean.

Ganondorf stroked its neck.  “Be at ease, my friend,” he said, in their language.  “There is nothing to harm you in there."  He adjusted his grip on his borrowed boar spear and nudged the stallion into motion with a brush of his heel.  It obeyed, ears swivelling as both it and its rider were engulfed in a shade that grew deeper and cooler with each step.

Within minutes, they were deep enough that the forest canopy closed above them, far above Ganondorf’s head.  In the cool and the dim, and with the rustling of leaves in the breeze overhead sounding almost like waves, Ganondorf felt as though he were at the bottom of a great, ancient lake.  Mist lay in a thick blanket on the ground as high as the smaller horses’ barrels, and a carpet of dead leaves and needles deadened the sounds of their movement.  The hunters had fallen silent.  About that, he had no complaints.

Save for ferns and scattered herbs, there was little in the way of troublesome plants or low branches beyond the border of the forest, and Ganondorf realized that King Daphnes’ suggestion the day before had, in truth, been polite censure of his clothing rather than any practical concern.  He frowned, and put the thought aside.  It did not matter.

He thought instead on the many sounds surrounding them, his ears straining to hear every one.  There was birdsong, in patterns and notes he had never heard.  Small creatures rustled in the trees.  Water gurgled somewhere out of view.  The woods were full of life in every direction, and Ganondorf quietly marvelled at its richness. 

All of this, for the sport of one family? 

They kept to a walking pace for an hour or two, hushed but alert.  The dogs picked up a scent, the party wheeling around to follow after them.  Ganondorf rode alongside King Daphnes.  The man’s eyes were alight as he looked down the deer trail ahead of the dogs; a small smile of anticipation grew on his face.  "They have something, eh?” he said, in a whisper.  “What did I tell you!”

The lead dog threw its head back, baying.  It launched itself forward and the rest of the pack followed suit, tails held high like flags.

An enormous boar, all sinewy muscle and bristled hide, burst from a nearby thicket and was driven ahead of them.

“Aha!"  The king spurred his horse to a gallop, the rest of the party just behind.  Ganondorf quickly found himself bringing up the rear.

The stallion seemed to find this as unacceptable as he did, for without his urging it picked up speed, long strides eating up the ground until the pair were level with the king once more. 

Ganondorf’s eyes were now fixed on the boar.  He crouched low over the stallion’s neck, free hand fisted in the tangles of its mane.  They pulled ahead to run with the dogs, until even the dogs were falling behind them.

"Stay with it!"  The king’s bellow carried over the thunder of the stallion’s hooves.  "Keep running it!”

They ran.  The boar was fast and nimble, leading a chase through dense copses and over fast-flowing streams.  The world fell away until all that remained was the path they weaved through the trees, the rolling strength of the horse beneath him, the forest rushing by in a blur of green and loamy brown, and the boar.

Ganondorf laughed like a child, his heart light for first time since he’d come to this impossibly green land.

The chase ended when the boar made to leap over a fallen log and could not clear it, tumbling end over end.  The beast scrambled to its hooves, brandishing its long tusks.  It had reached the point of exhaustion, steam rising from its hide, muscles quivering with exertion.  It could run no longer. 

Ganondorf held it at bay, keeping the point of his spear trained on it.  He did not wish to incite it to charge and risk his horse.  He simply looked at it, watching the boar watch him with wide, red eyes.  Foam gathered at its mouth, and he wondered whether it would die where it stood, if its heart had burst in its chest.

The baying of the dogs was not far off.  The hunters were closing in.

“Excellent work!"  Daphnes was at the head of the party, as he had been to start.  "Oh, well done, man!”

As the dogs circled, barking and snapping, the boar stood its ground, head lowered.  It made a few feints at the dogs foolish enough to attack, but as the hunters closed in it had less and less room to manoeuvre.  Ganondorf could see it rallying for a final effort, weariness flowing into terror and rage.

It roared, lunging, scattering the dogs.  Blood streaked its tusks.  A horse reared when its leg was cut by sharp hooves.  For a moment, it looked to Ganondorf as though it might break away again and escape.

In one practiced motion, Daphnes leapt from his horse and sunk his spear deep into the boar’s side.

Ganondorf’s racing heart froze.  Pain keener than any he had ever felt lanced through him, choking him on a silent cry.  He clutched at his chest, groping for the spear-head that wasn’t there.  His own spear fell from numb fingers to the forest floor.  Terror and agony, all-encompassing, swept over him in a crushing wave. 

None of the other hunters noticed his distress.  All eyes were locked on their king’s struggle with the beast.  The boar screamed, running against the spear as if it would happily run the length of it to reach Daphnes with its final breath.  The cross-tree of the spear and the strength of the man wielding it kept the boar’s tusks far from its target, however, and for every drop of blood that spilled from its side a portion of its strength bled away with it.

After what felt far too long, the boar collapsed.  It’s screams had faded to rattling breaths, and when Daphnes stepped forward, knife drawn, it did not resist. 

It was on Ganondorf that its red eyes rested when its throat was cut, in some mute accusation or seeking solace, he could not say.  The pain in his chest receded when the final gout of blood ran out onto the dark earth.  By the time Daphnes stood from his task, wiping his hands and blade clean on a rag, Ganondorf might have believed that the pain had been a trick of his imagination.

It had not. 

“That was fine riding, Lord Ganondorf!”

Ganondorf started, wrenching his gaze from the glassy eyes of the boar.  King Daphnes had already mounted his horse once more.  Three of the men were preparing the carcass for transport back to the castle.  One examined a wounded dog.  How long had he been staring?

“Ah, Your Majesty flatters me."  His voice betrayed his upset, and Ganondorf cleared his throat to rid himself of that note of weakness.  The stallion stared up over its shoulder at him in a formless question.  He patted it absently.

"Now, no need to be so modest."  Daphnes guided his horse nearer, swatting at Ganondorf’s knee once it was in reach.  "That was most impressive.  I can see now why you wished to use your own steed.”

“It wasn’t I who killed the boar,” Ganondorf said. 

Daphnes grinned.  “Yes, well, it went down much easier for being so spent.  None of these lot were any help at all,” he said, voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as he gestured to the rest of the party.  “We make a good team, you and I.”

Ganondorf smiled.  He would not allow himself to be unpleasant company two days in a row.  “You are far too kind, my king.  But credit where it is due,” he said.  “The others are carrying the prize back to your home for you.”

“Very true.  Very true,” said Daphnes, a playful gleam in his blue eyes.  “It would appear that some must lead, and some must serve, would it not?”

Ganondorf’s smile turned brittle.  “It would appear so, Your Majesty.”


	6. Bilious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene is pretty short; anything I added just ended up feeling like clutter. :/
> 
> I have zero clue how royal court works. It’s like Mean Girls, right?

It was somewhat cumbersome to kneel in robes, but Ganondorf managed.  Black silk pooled on the floor around him. 

After three days of patient waiting, he now had the ear of the king.  Along with those of his court.  To have so many see him in that lowly posture unnerved him, if only for a moment.  The motion itself was alien.  He did not kneel.  Gerudo did not kneel.

Ganondorf stood when he was bid to, happy to be off his knees. 

King Daphnes regarded him for a moment longer, taking the measure of him.  This was the first official speech between the crown and Ganondorf’s tribe in over a decade, as everyone in the room was all too aware.  Life after the failed civil war had been…tense.  The conflict between the Zora and Goron tribes had ignited centuries of resentments and tribal prejudice throughout the realm, and though that fire was quenched, the embers smouldered still.  Whatever their assurances of peaceful coexistence may be, all but the Hylians now kept to their ancestral lands, wounded and wary.

“Lord Ganondorf."  The king looked quite at ease on his throne, a counterpoint to the Gerudo’s state of mind.  "You and your delegation have been my guests here for three days.  How do you find Hyrule?”

What was this?  Ganondorf blinked, caught unawares by the oddly personal question.  None of the Hylian petitioners he’d watched had been spoken to in this way; was this some test?  “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing his head with what he hoped showed suitable gratitude, “your lands are as beautiful as your house is welcoming."  A small smirk flitted across his lips.  In diplomacy he would admit he was a novice, but he would not be tripped up so easily.

"Good.  It pleases me to hear so."  Daphnes shifted, leaning forward in interest.  "The missive that preceded your arrival spoke most effusively of your tribe’s desire for friendship with Hyrule.  I must admit that I am curious, but,” the king paused, reaching a hand up to stroke his beard, “confused.  The Gerudo have always been standoffish at best, if not openly hostile toward Hyrule and her people.  Would you care to explain this sudden warmness, Lord Ganondorf?”

“The armistice has held these ten years, Your Majesty."  Ganondorf lifted his gaze.  He was not accustomed to looking up to speak, but the raised dais on which the throne sat left him with little choice.  "The council of elders and myself feel that it is time to move forward, and negotiate a formal treaty between the Gerudo and Hyrule.”

Whispers drifted along the edges of the room.

“Interesting,” Daphnes said, his eyes holding a sharpness in them.  He was a very different man at court than at leisure.  “And what precipitated this decision, if I may ask?  Why now, rather than five years ago, or five years hence?”

Ganondorf frowned.  He did not wish to air his people’s troubles in public.  He could not refuse a direct question from the king of Hyrule, however.  “An incisive and wise question, Your Majesty,” he said, “as I would expect.”

“One which you may answer."  This comment came not from the king, but from a member of Daphnes’ council, some secretary or other whose title and name Ganondorf had not cared to learn.  He had been present on the hunt, and his voice Ganondorf recognized as one of the gossipers.

"In truth,” Ganondorf said, hiding a scowl, “I must confess with shame that I come bearing a request, also.”

When he paused, gathering his words, he glanced up to see Daphnes peering at him over steepled fingers.  “Speak, then.  What is this request, Lord Ganondorf?”

“Your Majesty."  The words were an invocation.  "The desert is not so generous as your forests and fields.  It has been two years since our lands have last seen rain, and what crops we may grow have failed.  We are near the end of our reserves.”

King Daphnes straightened.  “I see,” he said.  “All becomes clear.  You come seeking a donation of food, then?"  The Hylian’s face showed none of its previous warmth.  He was not impressed.

A murmur had begun to spread through the crowd.  This could not continue.  "Please, Your Majesty,” Ganondorf said, taking a half-step forward.  “My overtures of friendship are sincere.  This crisis merely hastens them.”

“They rob us blind, and now they ask for more?"  Another voice this time, that of the treasurer.

The murmurs grew louder.  The glares of a hundred Hylians lay on Ganondorf’s back like a physical weight.

"I do not ask for charity, my king."  Ganondorf watched King Daphnes’ face darken, felt failure rising to engulf him.  "If you would but think on my plea, I’m sure we could come to an arrangement that would serve both sides.”

The court seethed in indignation.  Ganondorf could not make out the foreign words for the noise of the blood rushing in his ears.  He and his entourage would be turned away.  They would return to their desert empty-handed, and his true quest would go unfulfilled.  His task was ended before it had even properly begun.

The perhaps-secretary spoke again, voice dripping with disdain.  “The king does not entertain the delusions of a pretender and his band of thieves, you-”

“ _Silence!_ ”   

The word bounced in echoes from the high ceiling and walls.  The hush that descended upon the room was absolute.  The king’s eyes pierced the speaker, who knelt so swiftly Ganondorf could hear the man’s knee strike the marble floor.

“Do you presume to speak for me, chancellor?"  Daphnes’ voice had lost much of its volume and none of its danger.

The man’s eyes were fixed on the floor beneath him.  "Forgive me, Your Majesty."  His voice shook, all trace of its former arrogance gone.

Ganondorf kept his face carefully neutral while he drank in the sight of the Hylian’s reminder of his proper place.

"I will not see a war rekindled in my own throne room,” the king said.  “No one speaks without my leave.  I will have order."  This was directed at the court at large.  Ganondorf noted the way every person the king’s eyes passed over seemed to shrink in upon themselves. 

When Daphnes’ gaze finally came to rest on him, he noticed his own slouch and drew himself up.  He moved to speak, but closed his mouth again.  He had not been granted permission.

This small act of obedience seemed to please the king.  A smile twitched at the corners of Daphnes’ mouth, though his face remained stern.  "Lord Ganondorf,” he said.  “I will consider your request, and deliberate with my council on the matter of a possible treaty with your tribe.  Please continue to enjoy my hospitality until then."  When Ganondorf did not reply, Daphnes smiled fully.  "You may thank me.”

Humiliation rose as a bilious lump in his throat, but Ganondorf lowered his gaze to the floor in meek deference.  “Thank you, my king." 

"Good.  You may go."  It was the same tone Daphnes used when speaking to his daughter.

Ganondorf wondered whether the young princess felt the same anger to hear it.


	7. Omen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have emetiphobia, I’m very sorry. Watch out for puke in the second half.
> 
> ...I need to stop writing about fucking meals. I’m not Brian Jacques over here.

Two feasts in one week– it was the very picture of excess.  Ganondorf picked at the first four ( _four!_ ) courses half-heartedly, ignoring the increasingly concerned glances Nabooru kept giving him.  He could not offer offence by refusing to eat what his host set before him, but in truth he was not the least bit hungry.

Since his audience with the king, he had been ill at ease and restless.  Nothing cured it.  He had gone over his many notes and maps, adding to them in a hurried script that he himself could scarcely decipher afterwards.  He had sparred with two of his guards until his limbs fairly shook and his breath was ragged.  No amount of mental or physical energy spent would calm him.

Somehow, he had narrowly avoided losing King Daphnes’ good favor.  The nearness of it rankled.  And now, to hang in this limbo with the future of his endeavors here held in the hands of a council full of men who despised him– who must surely despise him all the more after the incident at court– was a strange and unfamiliar torture.  Helplessness was not a state he often occupied.  

The stares of the other diners were beyond irritating this evening, like a swarm of gnats he could not shoo away.  Surely the inhabitants of this foul castle must be used to the sight of him by now!  Particularly now that any sight that could offend their delicate sensibilities regarding errant patches of skin was absent.  Nabooru was well-wrapped in her formal attire, and Ganondorf’s robes covered all but his face and hands, and it was only by shrugging back his voluminous sleeves that even his hands could be seen.  What was left to stare at? 

Ganondorf’s unease was forgotten when the principal course was wheeled into the hall, his blood turning icy and sluggish in his veins. 

The boar.

The animal’s mouth had been stuffed with oil-soaked cotton to act as an enormous wick.  A servant held a candle to the cotton, and the hall gave a collective gasp of delight at the spectacle of the boar breathing fire.

The boar had been skinned, and roasted whole.  Combined with the flames, it had the appearance of some infernal demon.  Ganondorf could not take his eyes from it.

“Cousin?" 

Ganondorf could barely hear Nabooru’s whisper above the appreciative din that filled the hall, but her hand on his arm startled him from his trance-like fixation. 

"Cousin, what is wrong?" 

Ganondorf shook his head.  "It is nothing.  I am merely tired.”

Nabooru frowned.  She followed his gaze to the boar.  “An ill omen?  Have you had a vision?”

“No.  Leave it be, Nabooru,” Ganondorf hissed.  He would not give her an opening to renew her protests. 

His second made a sound in the back of her throat that spoke of what she thought of that.  He could expect her to dissect all that he had seen of this damned pig at the next opportunity. 

He watched the servants carve the boar with a creeping nausea.

“Are you quite well, Lord Ganondorf?"  Daphnes peered at him over the rim of his cup.

Ganondorf realized that he had just spoken in his own tongue not an arm’s length from the king of Hyrule, a serious misstep.  "The exalted Nabooru has just asked the same thing, Your Majesty,” he said, apologetic.  “Forgive me– do I seem unwell?"  That he was showing outward signs of his anxiety alarmed him. 

Daphnes frowned, one eyebrow raised.  "You are looking rather pale,” he said.  “Relatively speaking, of course.  And you have eaten very little."  He leaned closer, speaking in hushed tones.  "Don’t trouble yourself over today,” he said, gripping Ganondorf’s forearm briefly, “I don’t intend to be known as a king who turned down a chance at peace.”

The sense of relief that followed upon those words was sickening.  Ganondorf could say nothing.

“Cut a choice portion for Lord Ganondorf,” King Daphnes called to the servants.  “It was he who helped me take down the beast.”

The servants placed a generous cut of roast pork before him.  It was dripping moist and stank of death.  Ganondorf took a slow breath, lest he become ill in front of dozens of witnesses.

All eyes in the hall were upon him in that moment.  “A first act of friendship, perhaps?"  The king watched him, eyes guarded even as he smiled.

There was nothing for it.  Ganondorf took up his knife, and forced himself to eat every bite.

When the task was done, he sat for a time with his cup to his lips, though he did not drink.  Jaw clenched tightly, he inhaled the scent of the wine in the hopes that it would dispel the lingering stench of decay.  No one else seemed bothered, eating death itself as though the meat were untainted.  Ganondorf swallowed, unable to clear the greasy film that coated teeth, tongue and throat.  Breath came short and shallow, his pulse raced, and the sting of cold steel pinched in his chest.

His stomach churned.  His body would soon triumph over his will.  Wine sloshed over the rim of his cup as he slammed it down on the table.  "My deepest apologies, my king,” he said, words grinding out from between gritted teeth, “but I must go."  He did not, could not, wait for Daphnes’ reply.

As soon as he was through the side door into the corridor, Ganondorf ran.  He needed air.  The castle walls were too close, too heavy.  At any moment, they would tumble down to crush him. 

The courtyard was deserted at this hour.  Ganondorf fell to his knees, doubled over and retching.  Even after his stomach was emptied, he coughed and choked, gagging on the memory of what had passed over his lips.  He shook uncontrollably and did not know why, cool air scraping his throat in dry, sobbing gulps.  Minutes passed while he waited for the tremors to subside.

A brown hand held a cup before him.  Ganondorf looked up to find Nabooru kneeling in the grass at his side.  "Cousin,” he said.  He burned with shame to have her see him look so wretched.

Her eyes were hard as she pressed the cup into his hands.  “Tell me.”

Ganondorf rinsed his mouth with wine, spitting it out onto the lawn.  Weak as it was, it cut through the sick and the grease.  He took another sip, and sighed in his defeat.

  
Nabooru’s face grew solemn as she listened to him recount the events of yesterday’s hunt, the terror that gripped him at the sight of the carcass tonight.  He could not read her expression, her face dark and her focus turned inward. 

“It is a warning, of that there can be no doubt,” she said, her brow creased in worry.  “Some waking premonition, perhaps.”

“A premonition of what?"  Ganondorf rose to his feet.  He knew what Nabooru was going to say.  He sipped wine slowly, trying to calm his shattered nerves.

"I think you know, cousin."  Nabooru stood also, arms crossed.  She paced, like a lioness pacing the length of a cage.  "I beg you, do not ignore this.  The goddess wouldn’t send you this sign if it were too late.”

“Nabooru…”

She stopped, and cupped his face in her hands.  Her skin was warm, her grip firm as a hawk’s talons.  “Please." 

Ganondorf tried to avoid meeting her eyes, a difficult task when she held his head in place.  "I will think on it, cousin." 

"You will do more than think,” Nabooru said, releasing him.  She turned away, as though the mere sight of him upset her.

There was nothing he could say this time to placate her, not after the scene she had witnessed.  She would see harbingers of his destruction in everything now.

The silence stretched into an itching discomfort.  “I will have to make my apologies to Daphnes,” he said, lamely.  “Again."  All progress he may have made on that front tonight was undone.

"No need,” Nabooru snapped, with a dismissive flutter of her hand.  She still would not turn to face him.  “I have taken care of it already.  He will owe you an apology, instead.”

“Oh?"  Ganondorf pushed all thoughts of the boar to the back of his mind, to be dealt with later.  "And how was that managed?”

“Boars are sacred to our tribe,” Nabooru said, and now she did turn, arching one elegant eyebrow as she basked in her own cleverness.  “So far as the Hylians know, anyway.  You did not wish to embarrass the king in front of his household, but you were soon overcome with spiritual guilt and had to purge yourself of your grave sin."  She delicately put another step between herself and what remained of Ganondorf’s supper.

"And so,” Ganondorf said, “you found me praying to the Goddess of the Sands for her forgiveness." 

"On all fours, such is your piety.”

He raised his cup to her.  “Neatly done, exalted one.  And what of Daphnes?”

Nabooru’s face creased in mock concern, and she laid a hand on her breast.  “The king is beside himself.  Why, I would not be surprised if he does not present you with a gift in hopes of atoning for his ignorant mistake."  Seeing the impressed gratitude on her king’s face, she at last graced him with a sharp grin.  "I would press that advantage, if I were you, cousin.”

Ganondorf smiled, thankful that, for the moment, their quarrel had passed.  Though, if her observations were correct, a change in tactics might be called for.  “Is that your expert opinion?”

“He was very distraught,” Nabooru said.  “A man once gave me an opal the size of a cucco’s egg to repent for a wrong he had done me."  Her grin turned wolfish.  "There is not much a man will not part with, given the proper motivation.”

It wasn’t an opal that Ganondorf sought.  The treasure he was after shone with a far different luster.  He couldn’t imagine the royal family parting with it willingly, no matter his charm.

Still, gaining any amount of sway over the king of Hyrule could only aid his cause, buying him time and, more importantly, good will while he searched.  It was something to consider.

If his cousin thought such a gambit worth pursuing, then he would trust her judgement.  There were few who could twist a weakness into a strength like Nabooru could.  She was second-in-command for good reason, and not for the first time, Ganondorf was thankful to have her at his back.  He wished that could always be so.  “It would seem that you have rescued me, cousin.”

“Yes, well, as I recall you are often in need of it.  Come,” Nabooru said, “and I will see you to your chambers.  I must return to the great hall and report to dear King Daphnes your condition.”

They crossed the courtyard together, arm in arm.  “One more twist of the knife, Nabooru?” Ganondorf said.  “You are cruel.”

Nabooru laughed, her white teeth flashing in the light of the half moon.  “You will learn, cousin.  When dealing with men, you must be cruel.”


	8. King Topaz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I picked at this one too long. The holidays, amirite? Thank goodness they’re only once a year.  
> Our latest chapter, in which I fully reveal how much daphgan trash this is.

Eyes closed, Ganondorf let his lungs fill with the scent of fresh water and damp soil, listened to the steady patter of rain on stone. 

He had awakened to that sound, the moment between sleep and wakefulness passing from elation to weary remembrance that he was in Hyrule, not his home.  The rains did not fall at the height of the dry season, save, evidently, in this land.  Why did the gods bless the Hylians with such abundance over all others?  What divine purpose was there in overflowing a cup that was already full? 

With sodden clothes and hair plastered to his skin, Ganondorf stood shivering on the balcony, reacquainting himself with the sensations of rain.  If he wept, it was obscured by the rainwater running down his face to drip from his nose and chin. 

At last, he went inside again to dress and ready himself for the day.  He hung his wet clothes near the fire, and left his hair down so that it might dry.  The guards outside his door said nothing of his unusual lateness, both women tense and quivering as they listened to the rain outside.

“I think,” Ganondorf said, “that I shall visit the courtyard this morning."  His guards fell in step behind him.  Their impatience was palpable; Ganondorf could feel their stares on his back, willing him to walk faster.  A flicker of mischief made him dawdle, pausing to look out a window and admire this tapestry or that as they made their way to the ground level of the castle.

Nabooru seemed to have had much the same idea; Ganondorf found her seated on a low bench under the porch that lined the courtyard.  Her own guards were enjoying the weather in the middle of the lawn, laughing and lifting their veils to catch raindrops on their tongues.  To reward his guards’ sorely tried patience, Ganondorf dismissed them to join their sisters. 

"My king is looking quite dampened this morning,” Nabooru said, shifting to make room on the bench. 

“Indeed."  Ganondorf offered no more explanation for his appearance than that.  Several minutes passed in silence as they watched the guards.  One of them pushed another into a puddle, and now the eldest among them was attempting to steer the playful rough-housing into a sparring session with little success.

The few Hylian guards posted at each corner of the courtyard also watched their Gerudo counterparts, though furtively.  Ganondorf swept the nearest one with a discerning glance, grinning when the man fixed his gaze straight ahead, the tips of his long ears flushing. 

Nabooru chuckled, shaking her head.  "What a dreary lot.”

Ganondorf’s reply died in his throat when a pair of Hylian guards escorted King Daphnes into the courtyard.  The king left the guards at the door, and made his way along the circumference of the yard, keeping to the porch to avoid the rain.  Nabooru and Ganondorf rose to greet him.

“My king,” Ganondorf said, inclining his head respectfully.  It was as much of a bow as Daphnes would get this morning after what the man had put him through last night.  

“Lord Ganondorf, Lady Nabooru, I hope the morning finds you well."  Daphnes, for his part, did not look particularly well.  Dark circles marred his eyes, and he was dressed perhaps too plainly, though Hylian dress was difficult to judge.  "My good lady,” he said to Nabooru, “I must beg your indulgence; I would speak with Lord Ganondorf alone.”

With consummate grace, Nabooru excused herself and strolled to the other end of the courtyard, where she settled herself on a bench and returned to watching her guards.

Daphnes had some nerve to dismiss  _his_  exalted second so flippantly, but Ganondorf tamped down his irritation.  Gerudo sovereignty was non-existent as far as Hyrule was concerned, and it would ill-serve his plans to argue otherwise.  King Daphnes could command as he liked within these walls.  For now.

Now in relative privacy, Daphnes stepped in closer, lowering his voice lest a guard overhear.  “Has your illness passed, Lord Ganondorf?”

Ah, so it would appear Nabooru’s prediction had been correct, at least in part.  “I’m feeling much better this morning, yes."  Ganondorf slid a rueful smile onto his lips.  "I apologize if I caused a scene.”

“Oh, not at all!"  Daphnes laid a hand on Ganondorf’s arm.  "The fault is entirely mine.  Lady Nabooru explained everything, and I must say I felt ten inches tall.  I was up half the night worrying over it.”

That was interesting.  “My king, whatever for?” Ganondorf asked, perfectly guileless.

Daphnes let go of his arm.  “Well, to be honest, I was rather worried that I’d paid you a serious offence.  In fact, I’m sure I have.  As I recall,” he said, “you looked quite ill at the conclusion of the hunt, as well.  You must think me a perfect savage.”

“Our ways are not your ways,” Ganondorf said, feeling that a small measure of reassurance was called for at this point.  The king’s anxiety was very interesting.  "I could not expect you to know, and I share the blame for not speaking sooner.“

Daphnes shook his head.  "As your host, I should have taken greater care.  In any case, it would be a relief to me if you would accept a small token of apology,” he said, taking a knuckle-sized gemstone from his sleeve.  Uncertainty clouded his face.  “I do hope I’m not insulting you further.”

Ganondorf let the king place the stone in his hand.  “Not at all, my king."  No red-blooded Gerudo would refuse a gem.  Ganondorf turned it over and over in his palm; it had a satisfying weight to it.  At first glance he had assumed it was a citrine or perhaps a yellow beryl, but closer inspection revealed the stone to be a topaz of the highest quality.  He brushed his thumb over its face, wishing he could see it in the sunlight.  It would glow like a small sun itself, he was sure.  There were no flaws or impurities that he could find, and it had been cut with great skill.

"It’s a fine stone,” he said.  He held the topaz up to what light filtered through the clouds, where it shone dull like thick honey.

Daphnes frowned as Ganondorf handed the gem back to him.

“If you wish to make a gesture,” Ganondorf said, “I would have the worth of that stone in wheat sent to the fortress instead."  Pretty as the gem was, he had goals to fulfil.  It would also be useful to see how deep the king’s remorse ran, and how much trouble Ganondorf could prod him to for its sake.

Daphnes passed a considering look from the topaz to Ganondorf, closing his fist around the gem.  "If that’s what you would prefer, then of course it shall be done."  He put the gem away again with a wan smile.  "You are a highly practical man, Lord Ganondorf.”

That earned a very shallow bow.  “Thank you, my king.”

“It will take some days to assemble a caravan,” Daphnes said, a bit of the tension in his posture easing as more mundane concerns took over.  He looked out at the rain.  “Particularly if this dismal weather holds.”

Dismal?  Ganondorf would give his sight to have the rains return to the desert.  He held his tongue, however; seeing his little experiment successful and securing some form of provisions had left him in a charitable mood. 

The day was taking a pleasant turn.  He reached one hand out from under the porch roof to feel the raindrops. 

It could rain for weeks, and he would never tire of it.

“Oh, dear.”

Pulled from his thoughts, Ganondorf followed the king’s gaze to the middle of the courtyard, where one of the Hylian guards stood, red-faced and tense as a bowstring while the guardswomen tried to coax him to join their sparring.  The young man’s eyes darted, trying not to stare at the guardswomen’s hair hung heavy with rain, and where the loose fabric of their clothing now clung to their bodies. 

Hylians liked to pretend ignorance of anatomy– another oddity Ganondorf did not understand.

The youngest of the guards made a playful swipe at the Hylian with the butt of her glaive.  Shameless flirting, by Gerudo standards.  No doubt she was the one to drag him out into the rain with them.

“It would appear,” Daphnes said, “that one of my guards has forgotten his manners, and is annoying the young ladies.”

Ganondorf couldn’t have stopped his laugh if he tried.  “Really!  That boy is a goat kid among jackals, my king.”  How strange these people were.  He watched his guards have their fun with the hapless Hylian.  “And he’ll soon be on his ass if he doesn’t put that spear of his to use.  Ah…just so,” he said, as the youngest woman swept the boy’s feet from under him.  He landed with a clatter of armor, his hands and legs streaked with mud when at last he regained his footing. 

Daphnes frowned.  He looked nearly as confused as his poor guardsman.  “I’m sure no member of the royal guard would strike a woman,” he said, frown deepening when Ganondorf laughed at him a second time.

“Ah, my king!  It would seem that centuries of martial training and weaponsmithing have gone to waste, then."  Ganondorf levelled a knowing smirk at the king of Hyrule.  "If only we had known the gentleness of your people.”

Their eyes met as if across a battlefield. 

Out in the courtyard, the Hylian guard hit the ground again.  The Gerudo guards were not shy in their mirth, laughing heartily while they helped the young man to his feet.

Ganondorf broke the stare just when it felt as though the king would look away.  As much as he liked seeing Daphnes unnerved, it wouldn’t do to seem aggressive.  He nodded toward the young Hylian, who was now blushing furiously as the women adjusted his stance for him.  "Let your young diplomat be, my king.  I will see that he is not seriously injured.“

"Very well,” Daphnes said, quick to let the matter drop.  “I’m sure you have the matter well in hand, Lord Ganondorf.  I shall leave you to enjoy your morning.”

King Daphnes took his leave, still looking somewhat distracted.  When he went inside, he didn’t wait for the guard to open the door for him.

Peculiar.  And interesting.

With the courtyard more or less to themselves again, Nabooru returned, settling herself beside her king.  At her gesture, he shifted to let her reach his hair.  She worked quickly, winding the still-damp hair into a single braid.  It must have annoyed her to see it loose, and normally he would agree.  On any other day, he would abhor being seen in such disarray.  The rain had him in a strange mood.

When his second’s self-appointed task was complete, Ganondorf turned to face her.  “What say you?"  She would, of course, have watched his interaction with King Daphnes closely.

Nabooru took a moment to consider.  She had been too far away to hear their conversation, but words often misled.  From her more distant vantage point she may have insight that Ganondorf had missed.

"That must have been an impressive gift, for you to have studied it so long,” she said, glancing at him sidelong.  “You refused it?”

“Traded it, rather,” said Ganondorf, “for grain.  We will need to send word to the border patrol.”

Nabooru raised one eyebrow.  “Indeed, it would be unfortunate to rob ourselves, wouldn’t it?”

“Quite embarrassing for all concerned, I should think."  Ganondorf returned his gaze to the tableau in the courtyard.  Their guards were coaching the Hylian on his form.  The boy remained a comical shade of red.  "I know you spoke in jest before,” Ganondorf said, “but what is the advisability of changing my tactics, regarding the Hylian king?”

Nabooru’s brow creased and she frowned, stroking her chin with long fingers.  “Outsiders are beneath you, my king,” she said, “if you seek my honest opinion.  The idea does not sit well.”

“I did not think you so old-fashioned, cousin.”

“It is not a matter of being old-fashioned,” Nabooru said, tutting.  “It is a matter of respect, which Hylians tend to lack.  My blood boils at the thought of…"  She crossed her arms, and directed a hard stare at him.  "You are the beloved of Din.”

“And you are not answering my question,” Ganondorf said, meeting her stare.  He arched one brow.  “Would it soften your heart to know that I am considering leaving my old course in favor of this one?”

She blinked.  “Truly?”

Ganondorf shrugged.  “Faced with two routes to the same goal, why would I not take the path that is easier and poses less risk?"  A thief’s first lesson was avoidance of needless force, after all.  Blood was but one means to an end, and too often a costly one. 

And if his second believed the end had shifted along with the means, then he would not correct her.  So much the better.

"But this path is not without risk, either, my king."  Fingernails clicking against the knife at her hip, Nabooru gazed into the middle distance, pondering.  "If we have misread Daphnes’ desires, then you will pay him an unforgivable offence.  The gambit, along with the delegation, would be over.  Perhaps the armistice, too.”

Ganondorf frowned.  “As bad as that?" 

"I once mistook a Hylian barmaid’s attention for interest,” Nabooru said, with a rueful smile, “and she cursed me and had me run out of the tavern.  And Hylian women are quite mild in their anger compared with their men.”

“It seems to me I would have the King of Hyrule’s wrath should either plan fail."  If anything, the stakes merely heightened the challenge.  Ganondorf was not one to shy from danger.  "But the wrath that would follow an unwelcome overture cannot be more than the wrath of a king who sees his holy mandate threatened.”

“That is true enough,” Nabooru conceded.  She spent a minute or two in thought, Ganondorf waiting patiently while she carefully weighed this and that.  “He was,” she said, “standing closer to you than he tends to when speaking to fellow Hylians.  And not for the first time he has laid his hand on you.  He does not touch his courtiers, that I have observed."  She waved her hand.  "I cannot be certain.”

Ganondorf hummed thoughtfully, the bare outline of a new scheme taking shape in his mind.

Nabooru elbowed him, just hard enough to hurt.  “Nothing would make me happier than you putting this obsession to rest, but you must step carefully, cousin." 

"Your experience in these matters exceeds my own,” Ganondorf said, putting his hands up in surrender.  “I trust you will know how to advise me after further study." 

Admittedly, the idea that someone would not desire him was an unfamiliar one, but it was foolhardy to assume victory before the first skirmish.

Nabooru nodded, aiming a calculating look at the captive Hylian guard.  "Just so, my king.  A man always makes his wants known, given time." 

The young Hylian was smiling now, and even making attempts to parry the guardswoman’s attacks.

"It would seem they must be shown what they want."  Ganondorf found himself warming to the idea.  He had never had to seduce anyone before, but he was sure he would get the knack for it soon enough.  Another weapon in the arsenal was always welcome.

And though his ultimate goal was unchanged, he could hardly turn down the opportunity to secure additional prizes along the way.

He looked out at his guards cavorting in the rain, felt the coolness of the damp hair against his neck.  He thought on the grain that would soon be resting in the fortress’ silos, and smiled.


End file.
